(no subject)
Dec. 23rd, 2002 09:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jlhSo guess what happened at the bus station in Portland?
SOMEONE STOLE MY FUCKING SUITCASE. I have no clothes, no toiletries, no blank CDs to make mixes for people, no cell phone charger, no unsent-xmas cards (that includes the ones for John, David, and a few RL friends), and no contact lenses until I get my ass to the eye doctor, which means at least Friday. Grr. No, there was nothing that can't be replaced, and thank G-d for that, but so far, there has been no phone call of "hey, sorry, took your bag by mistake" especially since there was no extra bag at the bus station. I am sitting here in my dad's tshirt and sweatpants, and I am NOT in a good mood. All my karma for finding wallets and cell phones in taxis and duly returning them (two of each) doesn't seem to be helping me here. And as you saw from the list, there was nothing worth stealing. Luckily my laptop and cd player were in my shoulderbag . . .
In other news, my parents are officially Old People. It's very odd. When I was a child, Dad kept the house at something like 55 degrees most of the time. This place has got to be a good 75. Also, I came home and collapsed due to suitcase stress and no food and little sleep and the oncoming cold but couldn't nap because my parents were playing the TV so goddamned loud. I had to come out of my room and banish them from the living room to the "addition" (the upstairs of which is the computer room I sit in now) just to get a little shut-eye. They drive really slow, and they seem to get occasionally confused. I'm not sure what all this is about; they are only in their 70s and my grandparents were all sharp as tacks well into their 90s--my dad's mom lived to be 100 and my mom's mom is 92 and still living on her own.
Meanwhile, my brother was here yesterday and left a message that I should call him when I got to town so we could get together. Does it EVER occur to these people to PICK UP a DAMN PHONE and call me when I'm in New York? Clearly not. What if I don't have time? Pisses me off. I'm so sick of the way that I completely disappear from their consciousness when I'm not in Maine.
It has taken catching up on a month's worth of SBRL to put me in a better mood. Yes, this is a better mood. I'm going to go back to my laptop now and read smut. *sigh*
Oh, by the way, turns out I can't really check my email from here as I thought--Dad's having weird computer problems I can't even begin to comprehend. So if you really need me, comment on the LJ or something. Though, most of you that would really need to find me have the cell number anyway.
Tomorrow is going to be better. Tomorrow is going to be better. Tomorrow is going to be better.
SOMEONE STOLE MY FUCKING SUITCASE. I have no clothes, no toiletries, no blank CDs to make mixes for people, no cell phone charger, no unsent-xmas cards (that includes the ones for John, David, and a few RL friends), and no contact lenses until I get my ass to the eye doctor, which means at least Friday. Grr. No, there was nothing that can't be replaced, and thank G-d for that, but so far, there has been no phone call of "hey, sorry, took your bag by mistake" especially since there was no extra bag at the bus station. I am sitting here in my dad's tshirt and sweatpants, and I am NOT in a good mood. All my karma for finding wallets and cell phones in taxis and duly returning them (two of each) doesn't seem to be helping me here. And as you saw from the list, there was nothing worth stealing. Luckily my laptop and cd player were in my shoulderbag . . .
In other news, my parents are officially Old People. It's very odd. When I was a child, Dad kept the house at something like 55 degrees most of the time. This place has got to be a good 75. Also, I came home and collapsed due to suitcase stress and no food and little sleep and the oncoming cold but couldn't nap because my parents were playing the TV so goddamned loud. I had to come out of my room and banish them from the living room to the "addition" (the upstairs of which is the computer room I sit in now) just to get a little shut-eye. They drive really slow, and they seem to get occasionally confused. I'm not sure what all this is about; they are only in their 70s and my grandparents were all sharp as tacks well into their 90s--my dad's mom lived to be 100 and my mom's mom is 92 and still living on her own.
Meanwhile, my brother was here yesterday and left a message that I should call him when I got to town so we could get together. Does it EVER occur to these people to PICK UP a DAMN PHONE and call me when I'm in New York? Clearly not. What if I don't have time? Pisses me off. I'm so sick of the way that I completely disappear from their consciousness when I'm not in Maine.
It has taken catching up on a month's worth of SBRL to put me in a better mood. Yes, this is a better mood. I'm going to go back to my laptop now and read smut. *sigh*
Oh, by the way, turns out I can't really check my email from here as I thought--Dad's having weird computer problems I can't even begin to comprehend. So if you really need me, comment on the LJ or something. Though, most of you that would really need to find me have the cell number anyway.
Tomorrow is going to be better. Tomorrow is going to be better. Tomorrow is going to be better.
